


Something In The Water

by Second_Breakfast



Series: Things We Don't Understand [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode 25, Gen, I Tried, I also don't use enough commas, I can't come up with good titles, M/M, Minor Character Death, One Year Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Second_Breakfast/pseuds/Second_Breakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos goes to put the blanket back in the trunk when notices something sparkling on the roof of his car. An unfamiliar set of keys and a feather keychain. He lifts them up and dangles them. The Lights reflect off the keys and he makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. The single maroon feather moves gently in the breeze. Specks of golden fairy dust float down and disappear.</p><p>Or; how Carlos came to work in Night Vale, what his motivations were and how the Apache Tracker's death changed his life for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In The Water

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in class avoiding an essay I was assigned. If I start getting poor grades, I'm blaming Steve Carlsberg.
> 
> I've proof read this, but I lost over half of the text while trying to save this and I had to rewrite a lot of stuff. There might be mistakes. Sorry~.
> 
> EDIT: Tried to fix typos, changed Cecil's last name to the canon one, finally. Still not 100% happy with this but well, c'est la vie.

If asked, Carlos would say he took the job as the head of research because he was fascinated by the bizarre little town in the middle of nowhere.

What he wouldn't tell is he once overheard his colleagues agree all he was good for was theory and textbooks, and he shouldn’t even dream about doing any field work. Ever since then Carlos felt like he had something to prove. The thought has been driving him all the way up to this point. This is the moment he will get to prove for once and for all that he is a _good _scientist.__

__It's not certain if a proper scientist truly would climb into an opening in the pin retrieval area without any safety gear, but he can’t afford to think about that right now. He’s got to get to the bottom of the pit so he can figure things out. There are people looking at him and he _can’t_ falter now, he _refuses_ to miss an opportunity._ _

__”We have nothing to fear!” he proclaims, only to be proven wrong moments later._ _

__In hindsight, he probably should have thought more about the consequences before climbing down. There are tiny missiles and spears thrown at him, wounding him and permanently scarring is skin. He really is in over his head. His ears are ringing and his thoughts are running in circles. He and the tiny army are recreating a scene from Godzilla, and he’s the lizard._ _

__He falls on the cold, uneven ground and feels like an idiot. He really should have thought this one though. Just because Teddy’s words reminded him of his colleagues, he shouldn’t have acted so recklessly. What would Cecil think if he knew how stupid he had been?_ _

__The thought of the Radio Host clears his mind somewhat. He remembers he was supposed to go to a ceremony Cecil had arranged for him for surviving a year. It is apparently a great accomplishment for an Outsider._ _

__Now that he is dying on the anniversary of his arrival he supposes he’s disqualified and doesn’t get to go after all. And it that isn't the irony of all ironies, he doesn't know what it._ _

__***_ _

__When he arrived a year ago he wasn't sure what to expect. He had heard stories and seen a few pictures, but he had remained skeptical. That was the fourth thing a scientist is. Once he had seen the town with his own eyes all the rumors had seemed tame. Suddenly he had wished all the pictures had been photoshopped after all._ _

__He didn’t know how to classify things around here. On top of the list of things he couldn’t put in metaphorical boxes was the so called Voice Of Night Vale. (Carlos had gotten a notice from the Sheriff’s Secret Police about the importance of uppercase letters, which was a tad worrying. Could they really read his mind?) He wanted to call the man eccentric and mostly harmless, but that might have not been entirely truthful. The Host, Cecil Bald- _something_ , had a weird obsession with Carlos and his hair and it was very hard to ignore. He wasn't sure if the radio was safe to listen to or not. _ _

__Months went by and Cecil still talked about him adoringly, even after the cursed haircut. Carlos had figured it was the root of all unwanted attention, so logically by cutting it he would get rid of the unsettling compliments. It hadn't work, but he was sort of relieved. No one had ever talked about him the way Cecil does, and it was flattering and had grown to enjoy it. (The constant monitoring by the Sheriff’s ”Secret” Police, however, was not flattering in the least.)_ _

__In retrospect, Cecil was undoubtedly the single most unsettling citizen. He very openly admitted to following Carlos in the supermarket once Carlos had noticed him, and later sent a bouquet of flowers (carnivorous somethings) as an apology. He had also included card written in blood (because of the ban on pens, Carlos had reminded himself) that read: **”Sorry for following you around. I didn’t mean for you to notice me. It won’t happen again. ~~Lots of love and kisses, your~~ Cecil. ♥”** Carlos smiled. Then he frowned and diagnosed himself with Stockholm Syndrome._ _

__It should have alarmed him, how easily he had learned to accept it. It should have terrified him to no end. It should’ve been one of he things he shouted at the Void, the thought that lingered when he pretended to sleep. It was neither of those things. He thought there might be something in the water, maybe some experimental drug straight out of a conspiracy theory. It could explain the high amounts of radiation and the mutated flora. It alarmed him how little he truly cared. As long as it didn’t immediately kill him, he supposed he could live with it a while longer, just like with everything else in the town._ _

__***_ _

__When the Apache Tracker hauls him up, shouting something that almost makes sense, even though Carlos doesn’t know any Russian, he thinks of his assistants, all so eager to help. One by one they have either died or left, until only a handful remained. The cremé de lá cremé, all a bit like Dana the Exceptional Intern who had survived so much, but not quite._ _

__Dying is kind of like leaving, he thinks philosophically. Somehow the thought reminds his of the ancient chicken joke, and he knows Cecil will find it absolutely hilarious. Maybe he’ll even share it on the radio. Unless jokes are illegal. Carlos really should have read the ”A GuIDe tO NeW CiTiZenZ” booklet when had had the chance, even if the pages had teeth. And seemed to be bound together by human flesh. Or perhaps librarian flesh. He didn’t want to know._ _

__Teddy Williams takes him by his armpits and pulls, as the self proclaimed Native American cries out in pain and tries to lift. Behind his closed eyelids Carlos can see the Lights a hundred feet above the Arby’s and he realizes they are what people with near death experiences talk about._ _

__He wonders if Cecil knows he’s dying._ _

__He feels cold. The last thing he hears before everything fades to black is a man crying, saying he is still holding the trophy._ _

__***_ _

__He had visited Old Woman Josie to perform some tests on the light bulb. He had been told it had been touched by a black Angel. It was at Josie’s when he became convinced there had to be something in the water. Probably hallucinogens, he decided, once he had seen the Magical, Majestic Creatures up close. They had touched his hair, his shoulders and he thought he could hear a mockingbird sing. He hadn't mentioned any of this, because he had had his mouth full of a delicious muffin made out of imaginary corn and a cup of lavender tea in his hands._ _

__One of Erika’s wings had touched his face and he felt a flowing warmth rush through him._ _

__***_ _

__The sudden warmth that rushes over him makes him jolt like he’s being electrocuted. He opens his eyes and looks at Erika, who might be smiling. He isn’t sure. Then a bird lets out a short melody and the angel is gone, leaving behind only golden specks of dust._ _

__Carlos realizes he’s still lying on the floor, Theodore hovering over him, checking his wounds and applying pressure to the opening in his chest._ _

__”How’s-” Carlos tries, but his voice breaks. He feels dazed and he doesn’t know if he’s been dead or just unconscious. A weight subsides in his chest cavity, and it isn't Teddy's doing._ _

__”You’re going to be fine,” Teddy assures him with a smile, and he sounds relieved. He also sounds like he’s apologizing. Then he turns to shout at the people who came to celebrate birth, not death._ _

__”Someone call Cecil, let him know Carlos is alive!”_ _

__Carlos looks to his right and sees the offensive headdress soaked in blood. The man wearing it is smiling weakly. Carlos tries to smile back, but it's more like a grimace._ _

__”Thank you,” he somehow manages to say, under all the weight. Another man got stoned because of him and the man he cares about the most apparently thinks he’s dead. Carlos feel horrible. He's sorry._ _

__”It’s okay,” The dying man replies, and Carlos notices he can suddenly understand Russian._ _

__”I knew this would happen. You can keep my car.” With one last shaky breath the Tracker turns to look at the ceiling and sighs. Then he's gone. Carlos can see the stars reflect in the man’s eyes._ _

__Carlos grits his teeth and sits up. A thousand needles sting him, but he gets on his feet with Teddy’s help. The pain he feels motivates him to continue moving._ _

__It’s time for him to finally do something, he decides, not because he has something to prove, but because he has to. He can’t let his life go to waste, not anymore, after another man gave his life for Carlos._ _

__The one thing he wants the most right now is to see Cecil. He reaches for his phone and sends a text. As he walks out the door he turns to look behind him one more time. He thinks he can see Erika, Erika and Erika around the Tracker’s body, shining brightly. He doesn’t stay to confirm this._ _

__***_ _

__Cecil comes running, hair a complete mess and eyes red and puffy with all the tears he's cried. Carlos doesn’t know what he has done to deserve a man like Cecil in his life._ _

__He is still in pain and feeling a bit light headed and he’s never been good with words, but he’s going to try. Cecil deserves it. So he talks about time and innocence. How things aren’t always what they seem. He means every word and hopes Cecil understands._ _

__”I know what you mean.” Carlos wants to cry, because Cecil is amazing. He pats the spot on the blanket next to him and Cecil practically skips to sit on the hood with him._ _

__When Cecil leans against him he feels some of the weight lift off his chest. He smiles at Cecil, who smiles back, the happiest he's ever been. They stay like that for hours, Cecil’s head on his shoulder, watching the magical Lights that aren’t quite Aurora Borealis, but something else entirely. And Carlos finally understands._ _

__At some point he wraps the blanket tighter around them, so they can stay longer and understand better._ _

__After a few hours they decide it’s time to finally leave and get Cecil back to the Studio, so he can get his car. Carlos goes to put the blanket back in the trunk when notices something sparkling on the roof of his car. An unfamiliar set of keys and a feather keychain. He lifts them up and dangles them. The Lights reflect off the keys and he makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. The single maroon feather moves gently in the breeze. Specks of golden fairy dust float down and disappear._ _

__He thinks that, maybe, Angels really do exist, and that there is auch a thing as ”Ancient Indian Magicks”._ _

__”What is it?” Cecil asks worriedly. Carlos shakes his head and pockets the set of keys, careful not to snap the feather. He hopes that even if he tried, he might not be able to bend it._ _

__”Just a little something to remind me that I should always think before I act,” he replies and gets in the car. Cecil does the same. Once in the car the Host leans into Carlos’ personal space._ _

__”Will you?” The question is an important one, but Carlos doesn’t have to think about the answer. He figured it out while watching the Lights._ _

__”I should hope so. I don’t want to go through anything like this again.” His throat feels dry as he says it. Cecil leans his head against Carlos’ shoulder and breathes._ _

__”Me neither,” he replies with all his heart. Carlos turns the key and his attractive and sporty vehicle roars._ _

__***_ _

__Once they reach the Station parking lot he turns off the car and sighs. He suddenly feels very tired, like his aged years in one single night._ _

__”Thank you for the ride,” Cecil smiles. Carlos’ heart flutters and he’s grateful to be alive._ _

__”You’re welcome,” he says. His throat feels like sand paper._ _

__”Do you happen to have any water? I’m really thirsty.”_ _

__”I have a few bottles in my car,” Cecil replies and moves his hand near his throat, implying it’s for his Voice._ _

__”Can I have some?”_ _

__”Of course!” Cecil gets out and Carlos follows him to Cecil’s cute, tiny car a few steps away._ _

__”Here you go,” Cecil says and offers a mineral water bottle. Carlos takes it and drinks two thirds of it in one go. He doesn’t care what it contains as long as it does what it’s supposed to: hydrates and makes him feel more alive._ _

__”I’m sorry you missed the ceremony,” Cecil apologizes, biting his lip. Carlos reaches past Cecil and drops the bottle in the back seat. Then he gently arranges Cecil’s wild hair._ _

__”No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have thought before I acted, but I didn’t.”_ _

__”You could never do anything wrong,” Cecil says and takes Carlos’ hand once more. The weight in his chest is no more. Cecil moves to get something from his car. When he turns around again he’s won’t meet Carlos’ eye, but instead looks at the ground. He's holding a trophy._ _

__It shines golden beneath the street lamp and its shape reminds Carlos of a monolith. The uneven engraving catches his eye: **”Congratulations Perfect Carlos!! I’m so happy you’re alive! With tons of undying love – Cecil Palmer. ♥”**_ _

__”It’s not great, I know. But there really aren’t any trophies for those who survive a year although it would make a good business, since here it's worth celebrating. I had to carve the text myself and it turned out really, _really_ badly but I didn’t have time to get a new one, so-”_ _

__”I think it’s perfect,” Carlos informs the other man, and Cecil falls silent. He stares at Carlos with wide eyes._ _

__”Really?”_ _

__”Really,” Carlos assures and places his hands on top of Cecil’s so they’re holding the Trophy together._ _

__”Thank you so much, Cecil. This is the most thoughtful present I have ever received. It means so much to me that you put so much effort in this, I feel honored.”_ _

__”Oh, Carlos. Perfect, Wonderful Carlos.” Cecil tugs his hands and Carlos takes the hint, grabbing the Trophy from another spot so Cecil can let go. He instantly lunges forward and wraps his hands around Carlos tightly. Carlos doesn’t mention the cuts and wounds on his chest, or the way they sting, because they don’t matter right now. Cecil’s body is pressed against his, and it’s far more important than the few imaginary needles in his flesh. Because this is real._ _

__Carlos wraps his hands around Cecil’s waist while still holding the Trophy. They stay like that until the bush nearby coughs. Cecil pulls away first._ _

__”Public displays of affection have limits. We can’t hug for more than four and a half minutes,” he explains, blushing. Carlos laughs and and the needles don't sting anymore._ _

__”See you tomorrow, then?” He asks and Cecil beams._ _

__”Of course! Anytime you want!”_ _

__”How does three o’clock at Rico’s sound?”_ _

__”It sounds absolutely perfect.”_ _

__Cecil gets into his car as Carlos walks back to his, placing the Trophy on the passengers’ seat. He doesn’t know where to put it once he gets home, but he supposes the night stand will do.That way he can look at it every time he goes to bed._ _

__Carlos smiles. After a year he finally thinks of Night Vale as home._ _

__”Good night, Perfect Carlos,” Cecil calls from his car and waves._ _

__”Good night, Cecil. Good night,” Carlos replies with a fond smile. As he watches Cecil leave he makes up his mind. He’s not going to waste his second chance with Cecil._ _

__The feather hums lightly against his thigh as he makes the short drive home._ _

**Author's Note:**

> That's all for now!
> 
> Good Night, Dear Readers. Good Night. *Faints from exhaustion*
> 
> Edit: This is "part one" of a series now! I didn't intend for that to happen, but sometimes things just... Lead to other things and then there are ideas. So, yay, I suppose.


End file.
